There was, not so long ago, quite a dialog in blogland about anger. I'm trying not to focus on anger this 3:17 in the morning, when I should be sleeping, so much to do, so much to keep up with, and the plague of the locuses chirping away outside.
Instead I'm thinking more about anger's natural outlet: Destruction. There is, I think, no greater power than destruction. Destruction reduces creation. So, then, destruction is the natural enemy of creativity.
But still, there is so much I could destroy, I wouldn't know where to start. It's in my genes to do this. Family members have murdered business partners and been sent down the river for it. Lives and families have been destroyed. And in a covert way, on the other side of my of my family continuum, destruction is even more powerful because it is executed covertly. Many have died in my family, in my life, and not all by accident. In fact, even without a physical murder weapon, destruction has laid waste and left dead bodies strewn across upstate New York graveyards. Some of us are walking monuments to destructive forces. Give me a steamroller anyday.
So I look at my inherent ability, and inborn proclivity, to destroy and wonder why I don't do it. And I think, then, maybe I have done it, by trying to avoid destruction, thereby playing into its hands. And that makes me want to search and destroy all the more. The power surge I feel just thinking about unleashing my wrath is, well, pleasant. No, it's not disturbing to me at all. This may not be a good thing. What should I run over today, what should I reduce to rubble, and what should I save? Myself? Well, yes, there's that. No power surge in that though.
And yet, when the wave passes--the pure DNA based understanding that I could easily smash the tallest castle to dust with my mind, that my thoughts and the manifestations of those thoughts could so over power another human creation, that my strength of voice could leave another human being a drewling mass of flesh and not much more--oops, I got carried away there, sorry--as I was saying, when the wave passes, some odd sense of peace and joy take it's place. A greater understanding of all I've been so angry about. I jump to another level of understanding.
And I can't decide whether it's because I've resisted the urge (and in many ways have not been allowed) to destroy something, or because I've already exercised it here, in my blog/voice/mind and need not act it out. No matter how you cut it, destruction is a force we must keep in check, because when the whirlwind starts, self-destruction is often the end result of that large load of anger.
